Middle Passage Essay -- Literary Analysis, Charles Johnson

INTRO Examination into the true heart of experience and meaning, Charles Johnson’s Middle Passage looks at the structures of identity and the total transformation of the self. The novel talks about the hidden assumptions of human and literary identity and brings to view the real problems of these assumptions through different ideas of allusion and appropriation. As the novel tells Rutherford Calhoun’s transformation of un-awareness allows him to cross â€Å"the sea of suffering† (209) making him forget who he really is. The novel brings forth the roots of human â€Å"being† and the true complications and troubles of African American experiences. Stuck between posed questions of identity, the abstract body is able to provide important insight into the methods and meanings in Middle Passage. RUTHERFORD’S TRANSFORMATION Middle Passage’s protagonist , Rutherford Calhoun, shows that identity is a dangerous â€Å"middle† experience for the African American offspring that endured the middle passage. As a survivor of a unknown place and subject to total isolation of his own personal experiences we find Rutherford searching for meaning. The novel questions the structure of human and literary identity by testing the power of duel oppositions and abstraction to portray the meaning of experience: "Our faith in fiction comes from an ancient belief that language and literary art all speaking and showing-clarify our experience" (Being 3). By questioning the African-American experience, Johnson radicalizes faith and is able to show the complexities of experience and change. Johnson’s examination into identity, which we can see as both human and textual, depends mainly on the appropriation for its literal and pensive methods. This contradictory space of ... ...o becoming "like any other men," or if not like every other man they become more like Rutherford himself: â€Å"They were leagues from home - indeed, without a home - and in Ngonyama's eyes I saw a displacement, an emptiness like maybe all of his brethren as he once knew them were dead. To wit, I saw myself. A man remade by virtue of his contact with the crew. My reflection in his eyes, when I looked up, gave back my flat image as phantasmic, the flapping sails and sea behind me drained of their density like figures in a dream. Stupidly, I had seen their lives and culture as timeless product, as a finished thing, pure essence or Parmenidean meaning I envied and wanted to embrace, when the truth was that they were process and Heraclitean change, like any men, not fixed but evolving and as vulnerable to metamorphosis as the body of the boy we'd thrown overboard. (124)†